History Doesn't Repeat Itself
by White Water Runs Red
Summary: Perhaps this isn't their Camp Half-Blood. But it is them. Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase. And that hasn't changed. Drabble. Percabeth. Takes place during SN. Rating for one cuss word.


**A/N: **All right, so. This is the first and only time I have ever written a Percabeth fic. It came to me out of nowhere and will probably never happen again. Since Son of Neptune is coming out soon, but hasn't yet, I just figured it was an appropriate time for such a fic.

Constructive criticism would be highly encouraged; I hope I didn't butcher them too much.

* * *

><p><strong>Because History Doesn't Repeat Itself (Perfectly) <strong>

He was sleeping.

She'd spent weeks searching for him, and when she finally finds him, he's _sleeping. _

Despite the knowledge that he will not remember her when he awakes, she can't help the little chuckle that escapes her lips, because this is just how they met.

Him, sleeping in a cot in the infirmary. Her, spooning him nectar and ambrosia. Perhaps this isn't _their_ Big House. Perhaps this isn't _their_ Camp Half-Blood. But it is _them. _Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase. And that hasn't changed.

She _will_ make him remember her. Jason got his memories back, didn't he? So will Percy.

They've known each other for four years_. _Going on five, here. Even if he doesn't recall that they are "boyfriend and girlfriend", he surely _must _recall that they were best friends_. _That they _are. _That that will never change, even if they break up, even if they die, because they are just that close.

Luke died; Thalia joined the Hunters; Grover became a "Lord of the Wild", and he has his own duties now. But she is still Annabeth, and he is still Percy. There is no one who knows her better, and there is no one she loves more in the world; no, not even Luke. Not Thalia or Grover. She loved all of them, but Percy is more than that to her.

They are something irreplaceable to each other. Together, or apart. Dead, or alive. Whether she's his girlfriend or just his friend, she loves him. She loves him as her friend, she loves him as her family, and she loves him romantically too, needless to say. It's not some silly, juvenile high-school crush, and nothing anyone says to her will change what she _knows. _

And although he is the most obtuse boy on the _planet_, and he would never think so deeply about such things, it's the same for him. He couldn't ever define it as well as she can, but there is something about his feelings towards Annabeth that he could never explain if he tried. They love each other.

It's not the love of siblings, but it's not the silly trysts that most high-schoolers _call _"love" either. They've been through so much together. They're not Jason and Piper, who've known each other in real time, for what? A week?

_Four years. _Going on five. They have a deeper bond than the scythe of Kronos could _hope _to sever.

She will make him remember her. She doesn't give a damn what Hera does. He _will_ remember. Because they're Percy and Annabeth. Because they're more than "boyfriend and girlfriend"; because they're more than "friends"; because they're more than "family".

She's stuffing another spoonful of ambrosia into his mouth when he stirs. It's the first time in two days. _Again. _

She's not thinking of that day, almost six years ago now, but she is still Annabeth Chase, and before she realizes what she's saying, the words have already escaped her mouth: "You drool when you sleep."

Percy blinks a couple of times, still coming to, and just for a moment, his vision looks entirely clear from that Hera-induced amnesia.

Annabeth gestures to said drool, because history just doesn't repeat itself that perfectly, and she adds, "Wipe your mouth."

"I've heard that before," he comments. "I don't know how I know—so please don't ask, because everyone keeps doing that, and I keep telling them I _don't know—_but that sounds familiar. I'm sure I heard it somewhere before. My name's Percy, by the way. Percy..."

He can't remember his last name, so he skips over it for now, gives her a small, friendly smile, and he says, "Uh, I'm sorry. What's your name?"

"Annabeth," she replies, a small smile of her own just beginning to sprout.

"Annabeth Chase. Daughter of Athena."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Yes, I know, they're at the _Roman_ camp, but it seemed more natural to me that Annabeth would introduce herself with "Athena" rather than "Minerva". They are _Greek_ demigods, after all.

That said, please leave a review; especially if you liked it enough to favourite. I did my best to keep them IC, but what did you think? Drop me a review and let me know.


End file.
